Coming of age
by sa1boy
Summary: Summary: Harry is in love, and the object of his desire is his potions master. Severus Snape is seemingly immune to his feelings as Harry uses his invisibility cloak to stalk the professor. Part one of the coming of age trilogy


Coming of Age by sa1boy

Beta'd by Eeyore. Many thanks lovely.

"You're going to have to tell him sooner or later, you do realise that don't you?"

Harry had heard that voice in his head so many times over the past few months that he was now just about able to ignore it. Not fully, but enough to carry on watching the object of his desire, whilst hidden under the invisibility cloak left him by his father.

Harry had taken to stalking the man all his fantasies decreed he'd eventually bond with. The thrill of being told off had long since gone. Harry needed the physical aspect; he needed the feel of his breath against his skin, the thrust of his tongue in his mouth.

Harry needed him, period! The only problem was…well there were three distinct problems.  
First, Harry was gay, and more to the point, Harry had never told anyone he was gay. Furthermore, he'd never experimented with either sex. Whilst Ron was shagging anything with a pulse, Hermione had long since decided that the pleasures of the flesh were never going to be her bag, joining the 'Sisters of Abstinence at one before Merlin,' or SAM for short. Harry had kept his sexual tendencies to himself. It didn't seem right that the hero of the wizarding world be a poof.

Second, the object of his desire hated him. Not some common or garden variety hate…oh, no! This was industrial strength, venomous loathing. Harry did things to the man that just kind of made him mad. Stuff like breathing, existing, anything simple like that done in the same room as the man he desired would set him off. The insults would always follow; Harry had catalogued all of them in his mind.

"God, Potter! You're just like your no-good father. You really are in love with yourself Potter, just like your father!" were a couple of the most popular. Harry never really understood what his father, James, had done that was so bad as to make him so hated. He promised himself that one day he'd ask.

Third, Harry was a student and he was a teacher. Harry was sixteen years and 364 days old, but his birthday was tomorrow and he would be an adult in the wizarding world…for all the good it would do! He was still a student and he was still a teacher. A taboo that was sure to get in the way. Students just didn't date teachers, it was an established fact. That teachers did not court students that they hated, was, in this case, also a reality. And besides, he probably wasn't even gay. Harry was so screwed.

"You're going to have to tell him sooner or later, you do realise that don't you?" There was that inner voice again, pleading with him. Like all the times before, Harry decided to silence it with thoughts of how pleasing it would be to make the man he desired happy. Simple pleasures like rubbing his shoulders, making him a cup of tea, making love to him. There it went again, that trouser tent informer. Harry was grateful as always that it couldn't speak. "Over here! Yoo-hoo! Professor, I'm over here!" it would have been sure to scream.

So, Harry did what he had done these past few months; he spent the eve of his 17th birthday stalking silently behind the one he yearned. Harry followed him into his private chambers, the young Gryffindor had never been this bold before, but, the desperation he felt clouded his mind. Standing back against the wall in a little nook, Harry watched as the man of his dreams undressed and showered, pleased that he had left the shower door open, showcasing his nudity for Harry's appreciative eyes. Harry was again thankful his mute cock was gagged and safely tucked away in his pants, for it surely would be hard and quivering at the sight of the older man's muscular and well-endowed body.

Harry moved back to his spot on the wall as the professor dressed in loose-fitting comfortable robes and sat down at his desk and started to write something on some parchment; he wished he could see what it was. Who could he be writing to? Did he have a significant other? Harry in his naïveté had never given that possibility any thought. "Shit!" he thought. "He probably has a girlfriend, or a wife…oh, SHIT!" Harry realised in that instant that the person he had fallen in love with had a private life he knew nothing about. Feeling ashamed for his covert actions, Harry wanted to run, just flee this room and escape.

Oops! The professor was leaving. Harry stood still, watching as the professor left the room at the midnight chime of the clock. Walking away into a side door, a bedroom probably, he didn't turn back, oblivious to Harry's presence. The letter was on the table, the clock had finished the chimes, and the new day had arrived.

Taking a chance, Harry stepped closer to see what his heart's desire had written; it froze him in his tracks. Harry read the beautifully written name of the salutation and gasped in shock when he realized it was his own.

Happy Birthday, Harry!

In life, there is nothing as blind as those who do not want to see. I have always known that in my heart it was you I craved, you I desired.

I have been mean and unkind all these years out of my sincere wish to toughen you against harm. I find that I can no longer be mean or unkind to you. Insults that would be spit in your direction will cease forthwith, replaced with sentiments of respect and love.

I know you feel the same way about me… I can tell by the way you look at me that you hunger for me, and I await you, as your feast.

I have never been able to show my affections before, your age and my status prohibiting me. If I had shown the lightest flicker of my true intent, it would have proved fatal to us both. But you are an adult now, and as such can date who you chose. I love you, Harry, and ask that you love me in return.

Your devoted servant

Severus

P.S. You can take you cloak off now, if you'd like.


End file.
